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Saturday, February 23, 2013

Helicopter Rides and Puns

On the weekends, the wife and I like to go catch a movie. We are even members of this program that lets us go see movies for free (save the cost of the membership), which I'll need to write about some time. But not now.

Anyway, we were heading into town to see Dark Skies because it looked like a relatively entertaining movie and we could still make the showing--if we didn't make it, we were going to see Parker. Because as much as I hated Crank, I kind of like Jason Statham as an action hero.

The wife and I were busy complaining about something--traffic, gender representation in Disney movies, what passes for movies nowadays...it's sort of a grab bag what we'll be discussing in the car--when I saw a helicopter flying around overhead.

"You know, I kind of want to ride in a helicopter," said as we came to a stop at a red light.

"Not me," my wife said in that matter-of-fact way that means she thinks I've suggested we go steal ice cream from toddlers or something.

"Well, I mean, I'm afraid of heights, but I think it would be totally cool to see what the city looks like from above. And besides, something about helicopters seems less scary than planes. Maybe it's because they don't move as fast."

"Yeah." My wife had clearly begun ignoring me.

"Also, you never really hear about helicopter crashes as often as you hear about plane crashes. Except over, like, war zones, but, honestly, I'm not planning on taking any helicopters over war zones."

My wife perked up and looked over at me, "There was one last week."

"A plane crash?"

"A helicopter crash."

"Oh. Where?"

"Oklahoma."

"Weeeeeell, it is Oklahoma. I mean, that place is kind of a war zone."

"How?!"

"Well, they have that war on women, or at least on their vaginas."

"Okay, fair point. But still. No way you could get me in one of those things."

We drove past a gigantic sign about that point that said "HELICOPTER RIDES $--" and some price that I couldn't make out.

"Hey!" my wife said, "Looks like we could make your dreams come true!"

I let my foot slam on the gas and passed a car. "Oh well, we sure don't want to be late for that movie."

My wife leaned behind my seat, looking back. "I couldn't make out how much it was. I thought it said something like $225, but you were driving far, and I'm near-sighted."

"Who has the money to drop $225 for a helicopter ride??? ...wait...THAT WAS AWESOME! Seriously, that was a Shakespearean level pun, baby!"

"Yeah?"

"Yeah! Like 'You have dancing shoes with nimble soles/I have a soul of lead/So stakes me to the ground I cannot move.' Quality punning, sweetie!"

"Well, you know."

We made it to the movie on time, and afterward, on the way back through town, my wife saw the sign again.

"Hey, those helicopter rides were only $25 per ride. We could afford that for you!"

And for just a moment, I thought about how cool it would be to fly around above the city. I could take some video with my phone, but honestly just enjoy a new and fascinating experience. I've never flown before--never even been on a plane. This one of those unique moments in life where you can really life--really experience things outside of the humdrum norm.

And then I remembered how much I'm afraid of heights.

"Yeah. Maybe someday. But I'm pretty sure we need something at the store."

But the real point of all this, really, is how incredibly awesome that pun my wife made was. Seriously!

Updated:

Five and a half hours after making the pun, my wife begins uncontrollably laughing. We're watching The New Girl, but it's on a commercial break, so it can't be the show.

"What?" I ask, growing concerned that maybe her new head medicine is a little too strong.

"My pun! I just got it! Why didn't you explain it to me earlier!?" she shouts through peals of laughter. She laughs for 2 solid minutes.

This where you post your head dumpings. I don't mind disagreement if you're polite, well-thought-out, and civil. However, I decide what is and isn't acceptable. I reserve the right for my underground dwelling Comment Goblins to capture and devour any post they see fit.

NaNo Progress

About Me

J. M. Dow's owner pressed the B button, preventing him from evolving into his final form. He's had a fascination with dark, weird things since he was a little kid sneaking into the living room to watch late-night reruns of Tales from the Crypt. He lives in Northwest Arkansas with his wife and weenie dog.